"That's a bummer, I was looking forward to it happening one day. Did I ever tell you that moms find me very agreeable?"
She nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "You did. And I didn't believe you."
"If only there was a way to prove you wrong," He took a step away from the railing, his hands wrapping around the cold material. Her brain couldn't articulate a fast answer, so he continued, leaving that comment behind as though it hadn't come out of his mouth. "Are you working in Europe again?"
"Just this one thing. I'll go back to New York tomorrow night. I have a bunch of meetings and a fitting in Los Angeles next week." Catherina's voice reminding her that she could not go too hard in Monaco came every now and then.
He clicked his tongue. "Models and their schedules."
Now she could've bit her tongue and not said anything. Or simply agreed with the comment and left it there, but maybe those cocktails she'd taken with Sloane before showing up there had been a bad idea. "I'll assume you've been staying away from them. Models, I mean." Her voice even sounded a bit jokey. Like they were pals. He had seriously ruined the way her brain worked. Salma closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in regret. "That was a terrible attempt at a joke. Ignore that, fuck."
It did not, however, ruin the moment. Pierre scoffed and leaned forward once more, resting his weight on the railing. She wanted the earth to open up, swallow her and spit her back in New York. Anywhere else but Monaco, honestly. Salma wasn't one to blush, but she felt the heat on her cheeks, and he appreciated that those were his sights again. There was nothing better than when Salma got flustered.
"No, you're spot on, to be honest. I've been keeping my distance from the models, and everybody else for that matter. Charles mentioned he's glad my loverboy thing is finally over. Whatever that means, I have no fucking clue." God, she had to run her mouth. While she was having an internal conflict, he decided to send the question back. Mainly because he was interested to know. "Have you been staying away from the racing drivers?"
Yes, and anyone who wasn't him. Salma picked at her cuticles, her chest heaving. "Unless you count the times I had to see Max, I've been staying pretty far away from the racing drivers. And everybody else too."
"And our friends dared to say we had nothing in common. Look at us." He quipped with a beam. He was acting so breezy, humoured and Pierre-y, and she could feel herself slowly dying inside. Like whatever she had in her body was contracting in a knot. Pierre looked over his shoulder, behind him. "I should go back with the team. Don't want to give my press officer a headache."
The options were limited. She could maintain her promise, leave him be and only bid her farewells. These random encounters would probably happen again, but that was it. Nothing else, no extra expectation. On the other hand, Salma could squeeze the last drops of hope that for some reason this single interaction had created and give it one last try. If he really didn't want to be associated with her anymore, and everything was done and dusted, then fine, it was shit but she would accept it once and for all. As her mother had said, there were more fish in the sea.
She'd survive.
"Wait, wait," She pushed herself closer to the edge of the bench when he was already taking a step back from the railing, ready to leave. "Fuck. Okay, look...do you want to go out before I go back to New York? For dinner or whatever? If not, that's fine, I'm not—it's only a suggestion." Her words were rushed and a little clumsy.
Because Pierre was Pierre, and even though he'd managed to get her to have positive feelings for him he was still as vexing as he could get — especially when given the chance —, he pretended to ponder on the offer for a few seconds. Overdoing his pensive face and everything. Salma resisted the urge to groan in complaint at his dramatics and only narrowed her eyes. He was having too much fun with it.
"You said you prefer Monaco for partying in a yacht, right?" She nodded. "I could fix that after the race, but," He pointed a finger at her. "The next one is in Canada, if I make a quick stop in New York before going there, you have to promise a date in your territory. One you and one me. Like old times."
It was scary and equally fascinating the way a weight seemed to drop from her shoulders. She straightened, recovering posture. "One you and one me. Yes, I can definitely do that."
"One you and one me then." He smiled.
After all, maybe finding the other fish in the sea wouldn't be necessary. And he'd get that cup of coffee with her mom someday.
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a/n:
i did write a lil extra for this one too so go to the next part for that and my final thoughts <3
chapter 20 | no other heart
Start from the beginning
